


shake the glitter

by daenerystargaryen (orphan_account)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/daenerystargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine wakes up after a night in Vegas with Jesse St. James and, yes, this means exactly what you expect it means (hint: killer hangovers, missing shoes, and rings are involved).</p>
            </blockquote>





	shake the glitter

It started out innocently enough.

Well, okay, there was little innocence in flying off to Vegas to begin with; just breathing in that city was a little filthy, but Blaine supposed that it had started out as innocently as a trip to Vegas _could_ go, all things considered. He’d just turned twenty-two and, while New York offered plenty of options, he’d been coaxed into going somewhere that he hadn’t already seen a dozen times. So, he might have started saving the year before, after his twenty-first celebration turned out to be slightly lackluster - at least when compared to Hollywood implanted expectations. Between that year’s numerous birthday checks from distant family members (who had to show their acknowledgment of his existence somehow), a deliberate lack of unnecessary spending on his part throughout the year, and a bit of sponsoring from Cooper (whose face was apparently quite profitable), Blaine was able to book himself and Jesse a flight out of the state. Add his monetary gifts for the birthday in question (including that from Cooper), and he was able to get them a pretty nice suite for the weekend, too.

Never mind the fact Blaine had to tell his father that Rachel and Sam had bought their own tickets and were tagging along, just to spare himself from the, “So, I’m spending the weekend in Vegas with my boyfriend and tequila,” conversation.

Anyway - the whole thing started out just fine. At least, from what Blaine can remember…

At present, however, he’s having a pretty difficult time seeing past the blaring headache and churning nausea. Apparently, the fun part has been over for a couple hours and, well, at least it couldn’t have ended in too much disaster, because he opens his eyes to see the suite sans any major damage. Plus, he turns his head to see Jesse sleeping soundly, which definitely earned bonus points. Happy birthday, indeed.

What? He’s seen The Hangover. He’s counting his lucky stars that he’s not waking up to a tiger under their bed and Jesse trapped on the roof.

Though, it’s then that he notices that he’s waking up fully clothed - which is, admittedly, a little odd - but he figures that they ended up passing out. That’s not exactly the most comforting of realizations, but considering just how blank the night previous reads in his memory, it’s not the most surprising, either (that is, you know, how blackouts tend to work… and he doesn’t know that from _too_ much experience, so don’t look at him like that). Anyway, nothing seems all that unusual, until Blaine sleepily wipes his eyes with his hands and feels something cold scratch against his cheek.

It’s not until he pulls his hand away and opens his eyes that he realizes it’s a ring.

On his left hand.

“ _Fuck_.”

Suddenly wide awake, he sits up and peers over at Jesse again, at the hand that’s resting atop his own chest. Oddly enough, the first thing Blaine feels when he sees the matching ring is _relief_. Well, it could have been worse. At least he’d married his boyfriend.

Oh, but then it really settles. He’s married. They’re married. Really, actually, he-never-wanted-his-life-to-be- _that_ -Katy-Perry-song _married._

“Fuck,” he repeats, a little deadpan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Not now.”

Blaine looks back at Jesse’s face just in time to see him roll back over, hiding his face in his pillow. He’s pretty sure he caught him smirking, though.

“Uh, Jesse…”

“Sleeping.”

Blaine sighs. “Jess, it’s kind of important.”

He rolls back over, opening his eyes (though, only just), and squinting at him with what Blaine assumes is as much concern as he can muster in his state.

“Are you okay?”

Blaine makes a face. “Look at your left hand.”

When Jesse does, all he says is, “Oh, god,” and for a second, Blaine thinks they’re on the same page. But then Jesse adds, “Please tell me we didn’t hyphenate our names.”

Blaine blinks. “What?”

“We were drunk. Who knows what we agreed to?” he explains, making a face. “Then again, I seriously doubt there’s enough tequila in the world to make me stupid enough to agree to that monstrosity. And I love you, but there’s no way I’m changing my name, nor would I ever let you change yours.”

At that, Blaine can only gape. Is that really his biggest concern?

Jesse asks, “What?”

“You don’t think there’s a slightly more important matter to be concerned about?”

“…No?” Jesse half-sits up, resting back on his elbows and still sort of squinting at him. “Are you really surprised? I mean, did you not expect to get married eventually?”

Blaine’s jaw goes a little slack. How can Jesse be so casual about saying something like that? They’d never even talked about getting married - not seriously, anyway.

“Well, I mean… Yeah, of _course_ I figured out that I wanted to marry you someday,” He clears his throat, “but I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Jesse smiles a little. “It’s not like we can’t do it again.”

“That is _not_ the point.”

Wait, _was_ the point? 

They’d gotten married on an unceremonious whim (pardon the pun), without any big arrangements or plans. None of their friends or family members were there, including Blaine’s father (who would absolutely throw a fit when he heard). Blaine didn’t get the chance to write out his own vows like he always wanted to, because the written, official words were totally lacking in heart. He didn’t even get to propose the way he wanted, unless he drunkenly gave the speech he’s had planned for months, which he seriously doubts he went through with last night.

But, no, none of those things are the point.

The point is - Blaine actually has no idea how they ended up married. He doesn’t know whose idea it was (though, it’s a safe bet it was his), how it was proposed, where they got married, or if their officiary was dressed up like Elvis (God, he hopes not). He doesn’t remember a thing about his wedding night and, yeah, that really bothers him. Blaine’s been dreaming about his big, ostentatious wedding day since the first time he saw Prince Eric almost marry Ursula in the Little Mermaid; it’s always been a big deal, for him.

Sure, when he fell in love with Jesse, some of those material needs started falling away and it’s since been decided that, perhaps, their wedding didn’t need to be very showy (or, at the very least, didn’t need to be on a yacht) - but, shit, Blaine would like to at least _remember_ it.

Jesse says, “Can you find the point later? Like, when my head stops pounding?”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Yeah, go back to sleep,” before getting out of bed himself and starting to search for his shoes.

He’s only found one of them before he realizes that the outside world is probably much brighter than their darkened suite, complete with drawn blinds and lights switched to off. Blaine doesn’t think that he can handle being a married man in the daylight at the moment, so he gives up, resigning himself to sleeping it off (because, okay, maybe Jesse doesn’t have the worst idea of how to handle this). With a sigh, he meanders back to the bed and crawls back under the covers, only to have Jesse shift closer and pull him to his chest.

Blaine knows him well enough to know that’s him trying to be reassuring, so he snuggles closer, nuzzling into Jesse’s neck and kissing his collarbone.

Because, yeah, he could have married worse.


End file.
